


Communication Breakdown

by CallingAllCarstairs



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Helpful Dick Grayson, I Realise I Could Change That, Mad Hatter's Rules are Stupid, One Shot, So here we are, Tim Drake is Robin, but i didn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:09:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallingAllCarstairs/pseuds/CallingAllCarstairs
Summary: Tim was at the desk, grinding his teeth with his fingers frozen above the keys and his eyes locked on the screen. Dick leaned over his brother’s shoulder. The search bar read ‘bumpy thought crash’. He winced.‘Still no luck typing, huh?’‘Mulch.’-------------------------------------------------Tim's having a hard time talking. For once, it's not because the Bat Family has poor communication skills.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Communication Breakdown

Dick leaned his ear to the door. ‘Tim, can I - ? Oop. Sorry.’

He tapped out ‘Shave and a Haircut’ softly on the door, entering only after the cost was confirmed as ‘two bits’. Stepping over the uncharacteristic mess on Tim’s floor, Dick cautiously entered the dimly-lit room. Tim was at the desk, grinding his teeth with his fingers frozen above the keys and his eyes locked on the screen.

Dick leaned over his brother’s shoulder. The search bar read ‘bumpy thought crash’. He winced.

‘Still no luck typing, huh?’

‘Mulch.’

Dick held back a laugh, but not before the start of a giggle escaped. Tim spun around and shoved him.

‘I’m sorry. Not funny,’ said Dick, collecting himself and putting on his best sincere face. ‘But it’s not like it’s forever. So the Hatter jumbled all your words up in your brain, what’s the big deal?’

Tim glared.

‘You didn’t let me finish. What’s the big deal _when_ you have the world’s greatest detective on the case? Bruce is cooking up something as we….as _I_ speak.’

Tim groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

‘Yeah, I know we’ve been through this a few times already these last few days and you’re sick of being poked and prodded -‘

Tim scowled and raised up his forearm to display a shiny patch of skin.

‘-and burnt, sorry, I never should have let Damian watch those Indiana Jones, but the point is – he’s Bruce! Sooner or later, he’s going to crack it! I just wish you could help, but your notes were a little…misleading.’

‘Notarised gnome,’ mumbled Tim.

Dick didn’t have any laughter to stifle this time; the look on Tim’s face was enough to break his heart. Dick had been treating this as a routine mind-scramble (I mean, come on, it’s not exactly uncommon in their line of work), but it had been going on longer than any whammy the Mad Hatter or even Scarecrow had hit them with before.

They’d tried speaking, writing, different languages, sign language – everything was gone or twisted. Dick had managed to laugh enough for Tim to remember a certain one-fingered sign, however. That had been three days ago. Tim was miserable, scared, and, more than anything, losing hope. This looked like a job for Dick Grayson.

‘Never mind that. Let Bruce do the heavy lifting. You and I can work another angle,’ he said with a wink.

Tim looked up, confused.

Dick smiled. ‘Suit up,’ he said. ‘We’re going out.’

‘Door side?’ said Tim, doubtfully.

‘I know, I know, the big bad Bat says it’s a bad idea, but I’ll be with you.’

Tim shook his head. ‘The boot’ll have a ticket!’ He groaned, rolling his eyes at himself. He could hear exactly how ridiculous he sounded, and he hated it.

‘Well, I’m going anyway. I could really use the backup,’ he said, egging Tim on with the Duty Card.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. ‘ _Canopies_ of doubt.’

‘You’re right, you SHOULD shower first. You reek,’ smiled Dick. This time, Tim’s eye roll was for his brother. ‘I’ll see you outside in ten. _Front_ door. And don’t tell “Dad”!’

He dashed out the door. A few moments later, his head poked back in. ‘Come to think of it, don’t tell “Mom”, either. What am I saying? They wouldn’t know what to make of it if you did! Get going, little bird!’ Dick sprinted down the hallway. ‘We’re gonna fix this!’

Tim sighed and relaxed a little despite himself. There was really no arguing with Dick when he was like this. Not that he argue coherently right now anyway.

Ten minutes later, he met Dick out in front of the Manor. Dick tossed him his helmet.

‘You can still ride, right?’

Tim smiled for the first time in days. He nodded vigourously and jumped on his bike. He was off before Dick had his own helmet on. Bruce would have been furious, but Dick could see as he caught up to his brother that, more than anything, he needed to get out of that house. He was already more relaxed than he had been all week, and Dick was a big believer in the power of fun. Bruce didn’t get that. He worried that Tim didn’t really, either. And who knew? Maybe this would help him out more than Bruce’s next contraption after all.

They rode aimlessly for a good forty-five minutes, just enjoying the brisk night drive. Dick let Tim take the lead most of the way, but challenged him to a race or two when they found a nice deserted stretch. He actually heard Tim laugh at the end of the last one, and that convinced him. They could handle this. He peeled out in front of his brother and signaled for Tim to follow.

Dick led them to an abandoned car factory on the outskirts of the city. Dick hopped off his bike, seemingly talking to himself. Tim took off his helmet and threw his brother a puzzled look. Dick smiled and tapped his ear. Tim put his comm in and heard Babs laughing on the other end.

Dick muted his mic for a moment. ‘She’s got a weird case of the giggles tonight, just a heads up. Not what I expected.’

‘I can hear you through Robin’s mic, you bonehead!’ Barbara chuckled through their earpieces. Tim snickered. ‘Hey, current boy wonder, how’re you holding up?’

Tim smirked at Dick.

‘I told you, he’s not gonna say anything. Now would you please open the door, like I asked?’

‘I want HIM to ask me.’

‘Babs, that’s just cruel.’

‘Oh, come on! I heard him laughing! Do it for me? Please? I’ll let you use my machine for a whole hour when you’re all fixed!’

Dick sighed. ‘Babs, you’re not helping.’

Tim held out a hand to get his attention. He raised two fingers. ‘Ha! He, uh, he wants two.’

‘Done. Now say the magic words!’

Tim sighed, but giggled all the same. ‘Opinionated poppies, favourably.’

Barbara laughed so hard it turned into a snort.

‘Jeez, Babs, it’s not THAT funny!’ Dick shook his head, embarrassed, but Tim seemed to have relaxed enough to take a joke or two. Dick smiled as the massive garage door in front of them rose up. He led the way out onto the factory floor.

‘Looks like my intel was on the money,’ said Dick, tucking away his comm. ‘Thank you, Vic!’ All the old conveyor belts and workbenches were covered in parts that most definitely had no place in any car.

Tim opened his mouth, then promptly shut it. Instead, he jerked a thumb at the equipment around them, then at his own head, raising his eyebrows.

Dick nodded and picked up what looked like the world’s most uncomfortable shower cap. ‘Yeah, it’s one of Tetch’s old hidey-holes. Well, not that old, by the look of it. I had Vic trace some very specific, very expensive materials. He and his dad work with them regularly, along with only a handful of S.T.A.R. and Cadmus’s finest minds. This address came up, too. It seems old Jervis is no stranger to them, either.’

Tim grabbed Dick’s arm with an alarmed look. He held both index fingers to the sides of his head.

‘Batman’s busy in the lab. Besides, I don’t expect to find too much. There hasn’t been a shipment here in over a year. I just thought we could check it out and see if there’s anyth-’

‘OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!’ came a cry from above. The bat boys dashed for cover as a rain of bullets showered down toward them.

‘Okay,’ said Dick, annoyed at himself, ‘maybe it’s NOT so abandoned.’

Tim turned to give him a look. ‘I know, I know,’ Dick said. ‘“Ya think?” See? I can do your part, too. Let’s just bag this creep.’

Splitting up, they forced the Mad Hatter’s goons to spread out around the warehouse. Taking them down one by one, they made their way around the floor and closed in on the foreman’s office. Dick burst in first, but the Hatter was ready.

The moment the door opened, Tetch crashed down on Dick’s shoulders from his perch on a filing cabinet. With all the might his small frame had to offer, he latched on just long enough to slam a fancy blue top hat snugly on Dick’s head.

By the time Tim made it into the office, Tetch had a gun to Dick’s temple and Dick was clearly unresponsive.

‘Is the Bat here, too?’

Tim shook his head, biding his time and looking for an opening.

‘Well, what’s the plan, boy blunder?’

‘Cauterise the snare, bowling ball, he’s obtained the lot.’

‘Is…is this a riddle? You sound like you’ve been talking to the Hare.’

Tim pointed above him. ‘Snow on your roof!’

Tetch actually did a double-take, giving Tim just enough time to knock the hat off of Dick’s head. The Hatter fired wildly. Dick snapped to, disarmed Tetch in one smooth motion, and took him down with ease, grimacing a little at being caught off-guard in the first place.

‘You okay? He didn’t hit you, did he?’ Dick asked once their quarry was sufficiently bound.

Tim nodded distractedly. He picked up the top hat and inspected it intensely. The bullet had gone right through the circuitry, and now a red light was flashing all around the edges.

‘What’s so interesting about a busted hat?’ asked Dick. ‘I mean, other than the fact that it can, you know, hypnotise you in an instant. And make you consider adding a fashionable stove-pipe to your crime-fighting gear.’

Tim was already at work hooking up the hat to Tetch’s computer. The screen displayed one error message after another, each one ending in ‘Device failure. Automatic shutdown completed.’ Tim unhooked the hat and jammed it on his head. When nothing happened, he offered the hat to Dick. Dick carefully put it on his own head and was relieved to find that he was still very much in control of his actions.

‘So…if the device is injured, it stops working. That’s not exactly noteworthy.’

Tim nodded.

‘And you’re thinking…all of his stuff can’t take a hit like that?’

Tim smiled.

‘Okay, but I’m not going to put a bullet in your head. His new stuff’s a lot more sleek. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but there’s no hat still on your head.’

Tim gave him a sarcastic look and mimed as best be could with his hands.

‘An explosion? No. The circuitry? You want to…try to short it out?’

Tim shrugged.

‘Short out…your brain?’

Tim nodded, again with a shrug.

Dick sighed. ‘Let’s bring it to Bruce and see what he says.’

‘Rascal twin rear actor!’ Tim shouted with a smile, snatching the hat up and racing off toward the bikes.

Dick smiled and dashed after his brother. With Tim back in action, they would have this solved in no time.

**Author's Note:**

> Another one just for fun - no big stakes this time.
> 
> I'm not great at writing action sequences or endings, so this one gets a little rough toward the end. Let me know what you think!


End file.
